


if we won't burn together, i'll burn alone

by nimona



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Love Confessions, M/M, Slow Burn (Sort Of), basically just two idiots in love, there is very little plot to this tbh just two boys being stupid and miscommunicating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimona/pseuds/nimona
Summary: He compartmentalizes his brain into what he will and will not consider with regards to Ryan, and for the most part it works out pretty well. The alternative would be admitting to himself that maybe Ryan is something more than a friend; that maybe Shane wants more than what he’s allowed himself to have.OR Shane and Ryan are two idiots who don’t realize they are both completely in love with each other. Ryan gets drunk and spills the beans.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. This is the first thing I've written in an amazingly long time. In the past few weeks I have descended into Shyan hell, and I've rewritten this so many times it's ridiculous so here it is. A few things: 
> 
> 1\. This work is purely my own wish fulfillment. I in no way, want to disrespect the relationships that Shane and Ryan are already in. That being said, if one of you EVER shows them this or mentions this fic to them, I will make you eat your own tongue. Also if you know any of them IRL please leave cause this isn't for you.
> 
> 2\. I've seen in a bunch of fics that Shane has a brother, and I think in one of them his name was Scott so I've just kind of gone with that cause it sounded right, but I actually have no idea if Shane has an older brother, or if his name is actually Scott. If you know for sure, let me know and I'll change it.
> 
> That's it. I hope you enjoy :)

Shane has never seen Ryan this drunk before – and that really should have been his first clue as to how the night was going to turn out.

He’s watching, amused, as Ryan downs another shot before being pulled onto the dance floor by Quinta. The change in Ryan is subtle but Shane has known him long enough to spot the differences –the flush in his cheeks, the laugh that keeps bubbling from his lips a little too often and a little too loud. Ryan’s dancing, which Shane secretly thinks wasn’t too shabby at the beginning of the night, has quickly deteriorated into a mash of grinding and jumping that makes Shane laugh into his beer.

While the night out wasn’t planned, Shane feels like it’s deserved at least. Everyone in the office, himself included has been hauling ass to put the finishing touches on projects that need to be done before everyone leaves for the holidays. Shane’s already booked a flight for tomorrow morning; he’s looking forward to two weeks of family and binge-watching crappy movies.

“Shane!” Ryan shouts. There’s a million-watt smile on his face that makes Shane’s lips twitch into a smile.

“Hey there buddy. Nice moves out there.” Shane is mostly sarcastic and Ryan smacks his shoulder before plopping down into the seat next to him.

“Yeah well, at least I’m actually dancing.” Ryan pokes Shane’s arm. “You’re being a party pooper.”

“Really, Ryan? Party pooper? What are you, 12?”

“Shut up Shane.” His cheeks flush. “I’m too fucking drunk.”

Shane can’t help but laugh. Drunk is beginning to be an understatement – Ryan is well on his way to being completely smashed. “I can see that. You look like you’re minutes away from passing out.”

Ryan only grins back at Shane.

For a moment they sit in silence watching their friends act like idiots on the dance floor. Shane is feeling good tonight. He’s got a decent enough buzz going, but not enough of one that he’ll wake up the next morning feeling like shit. Maybe it’s the getting older thing – god he can’t believe that he’s thirty – but he’s (mostly) lost interest in getting shitfaced drunk. Also the thought of having to get on a four hour flight hungover, makes him grimace. Though he will admit that the appeal of watching his friends make fools of themselves has yet to get old.

Shane checks his phone idly. He snaps a picture of Ryan downing another drink (he captions it “Ryan Bergara, king of shots”), and then a video of Sara dancing ridiculously up against Quinta and posts them on Instagram. It’s only a few minutes later when he looks up again, but Ryan has already disappeared. He only has to glance around for a moment before he spots him again, ordering another shot at the bar. Ryan leans his head back and laughs openly at something Daysha says to him before downing the shot. Shane can’t help but stare at him, watching the way his throat bobs as he drinks the shot. He sometimes thinks that Ryan shines so bright it’s almost blinding. It makes Shane desperately want to be close to him.

Shane has been having those kinds of thoughts a lot lately. He’s gotten pretty good at pushing them away for the most part. He compartmentalizes his brain into what he will and will not consider with regards to Ryan, and for the most part it works out pretty well. The alternative would be admitting to himself that maybe Ryan is something more than a friend; that maybe Shane wants more than what he’s allowed himself to have. That thought is one that Shane finds fucking terrifying- so he doesn’t dwell on it very often.

Ryan is motioning him over, all bright smiles on flushed cheeks. Shane hesitates, downs his beer and then gets up to join them. _What the hell_? He thinks, because he’s buzzed, and Ryan is drunk, and one dance never hurt anyone, right?

Shane is not the most gracious of dancers. He knows he’s all awkward limbs, but he mostly manages to make it work by not taking himself too seriously. Besides, he thinks, everyone else is too drunk to really notice how bad he is at this. He doesn’t dare dance too close to Ryan. It’s ironic that he’s fearless in the face of (potential, not at all real) ghosts, but is too terrified to dance next to his best friend; a fact that doesn’t escape his notice.

Somehow though, he and Ryan seem to gravitate towards each other. The songs, all fast and full of bass, start to slow down.

“You’re not doing too bad out here, Madej,” Ryan says, a grin pulling at his lips.

“Yeah well you’re just too drunk to notice how truly awful I am,” Shane says, and Ryan wheezes in response. 

Shane isn’t really sure how but Ryan somehow manages to lose his footing, which isn’t all that surprising considering how much alcohol he’s ingested in the past hour. Shane reasons to himself, that it’s only natural then, that he reaches out to steady him, his hands gripping Ryan’s shoulders in a way that makes his heart stutter out a strange beat. Ryan’s head is so close to Shane’s chest, and he hopes Ryan can’t hear his heart pounding wildly.

“Sorry.” Ryan mumbles into the crook of Shane’s neck. 

“No problem.” Shane manages to keep his voice steady. And then he realizes that Ryan hasn’t pulled away yet; his head is still pressed close to Shane’s neck, and Shane’s hands have slid their way from his shoulders to Ryan’s hips and they are swaying together, and god it’s more than Shane could have ever imagined.

He knows that Ryan’s just drunk, and it doesn’t mean anything, and yet Shane’s carefully compartmentalized brain keeps suggesting that maybe it does. And dancing with Ryan feels so fucking nice. He’s warm against Shane, and he smells like sweat, and that weird hair gel that Ryan uses, and like _Ryan_.

Shane isn’t sure how long they stay like that; and he’s not sure that he cares. It’s only when Ryan starts falling asleep against him, his neck nodding off to the side, that he pulls away. He almost shivers from the loss of heat and touch, and Ryan groans, seeming to feel it as well.

“Come on Ry,” Shane murmurers. “Let’s get out of here.”

—— 

They leave the bar shortly after, and they end up at Shane’s place. It’s something they’ve done for each other before when it’s been needed – Shane’s place is the closest to all the bars they frequent so it’s his that ends up being the go-to place to crash.

When they exit the Uber, Ryan’s arm is slung over Shane’s shoulder so that he has to half walk, half drag Ryan up the stairs of his third floor walk up.

“Ryan, come on dude, you gotta give me a second to unlock the door,” Shane mumbles, trying to fish his keys out of his pocket while simultaneously keeping Ryan upright. It’s not as easy as it should be, what with the extra two beers he had. He feels far more unsteady than he’d like.

“’m trying.” He whines.

“Ugh. You’re the most ridiculous, needy drunk ever.” Shane pauses. “Ah Hah!” He finally gets the door unlocked and drags Ryan inside, shutting the door behind him with his foot.

He parks Ryan on the couch, and watches for a second with a lazy, amused grin as Ryan makes himself at home; sprawling out on his couch and pulling the blanket lying nearby on top of himself. His eyes are already fluttering shut and Shane busies himself with grabbing a bucket and putting it on the floor next to Ryan (better to be safe than sorry) and then, after a moment of thought, a glass of water and a bottle of Advil.

Shane glances at Ryan again, and then heads into the bedroom to get changed, and maybe breathe a little bit. His body is still humming from being so close to Ryan. He digs through the closet and throws on a pair of sweatpants and an old worn BuzzFeed t-shirt.  He pauses in the kitchen and chugs down a glass of water to try and head off any chance of a hangover in the morning. Shane runs fingers through his hair. His body feels brand new, like it isn’t his own; his skin is fizzling from Ryan’s touch.

It’s not the first time he’s danced with Ryan, but it’s never been like this. Ryan pressed up against him, hips flush together, the way Ryan’s head tucked perfectly in the space under his head. Shane rests his forehead against the cold metal of his fridge and groans. He’s in so fucking far over his head. This thing that only started out as a ridiculous and inconvienent crush has turned into so much more. 

“Shaaaane.” Ryan whines.

Shane sighs. _Ridiculous_.  He pulls away from the fridge, scrubs at his face and then peeks around the corner. “What?”

“C’mere, I’ve got a secret to tell you!” Ryan sings the ‘you’ in the most ridiculous high-pitched voice. Shane can’t help but snort and moves to sit on the coffee table across from him. For a moment Shane seriously debates getting his phone out to film Ryan acting this stupidly drunk – if for no other reason than to embarrass him with it tomorrow morning.

“Seriously? Are we really gonna drunkenly exchange our deepest darkest secrets right now?” He quirks an eyebrow at Ryan, who only dissolves into giggles.

“No dude – just listen okay. I fuckin’ love you.” This makes Shane pause. Ryan, even when drunk, is not usually this verbally affectionate. Maybe to some of his ex-girlfriends, but never to him.

“Ryan.” Shane laughs. “You’re drunk.”

“No. No, you don’t... I mean I’m – I fucking- okay I am drunk, but listen. I’m in love with you Shane Alexander Madej. So fucking _in love_.” Ryan sighs the last two words and closes his eyes, seemingly satisfied that his confession is out in the open.

Shane, however, is pretty sure that his brain is short-circuiting. The world screeches to a halt and his breath hitches in his chest because this is impossible. Shane has known Ryan for years and not once has he ever given Shane any indication that he might be anything other than straight. Shane has never allowed himself the hope of ever being anything more to Ryan than a friend – even after the events at the bar. The realization that they could be something more is so startling to him that it’s almost painful.

Reality, Shane learns, is a cruel ass bitch. It comes for him so quickly that he swears his metaphorical head gets whiplash. It clicks into place suddenly; Ryan’s drunk. He’s drunk and only broke up with Helen a few months ago. _You’re a fucking idiot, Madej_. Shane knows that this doesn’t mean what he hopes it means, and trying to push back that small sliver of hope he had felt is so painful he can’t help but rub his chest.

“Ryan. You’re drunk, and you’re lonely. You don’t...” Shane's voice is soft and deadly serious. But when he glances up, Ryan is already asleep. It leaves Shane with nothing to do but sit and ruminate.

_Shit_.

Shane knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’s screwed.

\--

Ryan has been in love with Shane for a while now.

And he’s okay with the fact that Shane doesn’t (and never will) love him back – really, he is. He’s become an expert at pushing down that feeling that bubbles up in his chest every time he sees Shane laugh, or smile, or run his absurdly long fingers through his hair. 

Lately, though, it’s been harder to keep the act together. Ryan has even started strategically planning the moments where he can brush up against Shane so it won’t seem like anything other than an accident. It keeps him up on countless occasions, thinking about how fucking pathetic it is. So Ryan drinks, because it's almost Christmas, and he’s out with his friends, and it might not be the healthiest way to deal with his problems, but it makes the ache in his chest lesson so he can finally _breathe_ around Shane. For tonight, he thinks it’s enough. It really is.

So when he wakes up the next day feeling like death on Shane’s couch, Ryan’s not even the slightest bit surprised. It’s not the first time he’s crashed drunk on Shane’s couch, and he’s sure it won’t be the last. The sun is just starting to filter in through the blinds, and for a minute he just watches dust motes float in the air, trying to gauge just how awful he really feels. 

After a moment he concludes it's a pretty standard hangover – his mouth feels like paper and tastes like death, his stomach feels dubious at best and his head pounds steadily. All in all, not too bad considering how much he drank last night. He braces himself and after a minute he sits up, placing his head in his hands to try to stop the throb of pain and nausea that has risen up. He glances up and see’s, gratefully, that Shane has placed a glass of water and some Advil on the table. Ryan immediately downs a couple of pills and drains the glass before leaning back on the couch with a grunt.

While waiting for the Advil to kick in Ryan absently wonders how Shane is feeling. He was drinking beer, as far as Ryan can remember, though not with the same ferociousness that Ryan was, so maybe his hangover isn’t quite as bad. Ryan’s memory disappeared somewhere between his fourth beer and his fifth shot, and he can’t help but rub a hand over the scruff on his face. _I probably did something stupid, like always,_ he thinks. The last time he got hammered he drunk dialed three of his exes, none of whom were very impressed. Ryan tilts his hips up and reaches for his phone, still in his back pocket, to check and make sure that no drunk dialing occurred. He taps in the password and notes with relief, that there were no calls. 

He can hear Shane start shuffling around in the bedroom, and then eventually to the bathroom. It’s almost 11am, and Ryan knows that Shane has a flight to catch later on today. It takes about twenty minutes before Shane finally appears around the corner, hair damp and sticking out at funny angles.

“Hey Sasquatch.” Ryan says. 

“Hey. How's your head doing?” Shane asks.

“Feels like it’s getting sliced in half with a chainsaw actually.” Ryan laughs and then cuts himself off because it hurts too much. “Ugh.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan can tell that there’s something off about the way Shane responds, but he can’t quite but his finger on what it is. 

“Hey, uh is everything alright?” Ryan asks, and knows by the way that Shane clenches his fist at his side in response, that something is definitely wrong and his stomach flips.

\- - -

Shane told himself he wouldn’t lie to Ryan about his confession. Partly because he wants to transfer some of the uncomfortable feelings off of himself and onto Ryan. It’s a shitty selfish thing to do, but being the only one bearing the weight of Ryan’s false confession is almost unbearable. And Shane kind of feels bad because Ryan looks pretty miserable; his clothes are wrinkled from being slept in, and he’s still smells like beer, and he looks paler than normal. Shane hates himself for still finding him beautiful.

So, of course when Ryan does mention it, Shane grits his teeth and asks, “Do you remember much of last night?”

“Not really. I remember everything up to dancing with Quinta, and then its blank.” Ryan sounds nervous.

“You uh, you said some…” Shane pauses carefully. “Some things.”

“Ah shit. Did I give you some more blackmail material?”  
  
Shane forces out a quick laugh. “No. You said you were in love with me.”  

“I said – what?” Ryan visibly pales; Shane can tell he’s already looking for the right way to explain it was only a mistake. He’s sure that at any moment Ryan will bust out a ‘no homo, bro’ and Shane thinks he might actually punch something for the first time in his life if he has to hear it.

“Yeah. But you were pretty drunk.” He keeps his voice surprisingly even, calm. _The best offense is a good defense_. Or something. He digs up an excuse for Ryan before Ryan has to stumble around to come up with his own. It feels like he is offering up a piece of himself in the process. He wonders if Ryan can see how tightly his fists are clenched against his thigh. He wonders if the act of breaking himself in half is visible to anyone else.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Should we uh- talk about it?” Ryan’s cheeks have turned red, and he lifts a hand to awkwardly brush the hair away from his face.

“No,” Shane says quickly. Having to hear Ryan brush off what he said would only serve to make the whole thing more unbearable.

“Okay, okay great. I’m gunna go then. I’ll uh, let you pack.” Ryan is out the door before Shane can think of a response. Shane stands frozen for a long time, staring at the space where Ryan used to be.

\--

The first week Shane has at home passes by sluggishly. He tries hard not to think about it, to not think about Ryan but it’s almost impossible. Scott can tell immediately that something is wrong, and he tries his best to distract Shane, with movie marathons, and walks, and little road trips to the places they used to hang out as kids and then as teenagers, but Shane still feels out of it. He feels hollowed out, like at any moment he might fray and unravel.

It’s the middle of Shane’s third night at home when Ryan texts him the first time. Shane isn’t asleep; just alternating between staring at the ceiling and scrolling endlessly through social media. He’s just worked up the courage to valiantly like Ryan’s newest post on Instagram; a selfie of him looking way too damn good, when Ryan’s first text pops up.

**Ryan** <1:55> Are we okay?

Shane almost doesn’t reply. His thumbs hover over the screen for a minute before he finally responds. 

**Shane** <3:00> Yeah. Just been busy. Family stuff you know.

**Ryan** <3:04> Okay. I’m sorry about that dude. Too much to drink.

**Shane** <3:14> It’s all good.

It’s a quick conversation – no banter, no friendly ribbing, and Shane hates it so much he immediately deletes the conversation thread and throws his phone across the bed. He tosses and turns the rest of the night, head buried under his pillow.

 --

All in all, Ryan thinks, he’s holding it together well. He makes it through the first few days with his family and it sort of works as a distraction, except that he keeps checking his phone every five minutes to see if Shane has texted. No one mentions it, but Jake sends him a questioning look that Ryan just shakes his head at. _Please just not now,_ he thinks, because he feels like if he tries to talk about it right now he might just cry. Which Ryan knows, is absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Of all the stupid things he had to blurt out while drunk it had to be that. He knows that Shane is bisexual, but having your best friend fall in love with you is a lot, and friendships have been ruined by lesser things. And god, Unsolved has been his baby for so long now, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if this ruins it.

Ryan groans. Anxiety has been pulsing through him for a days now, and so finally, he works up the courage and texts Shane at 3am, not really expecting him to be awake to answer. The conversation is quick and Ryan hates it, but Shane says they’re okay and so Ryan tries really hard to convince himself that Shane means it. If he knows that they can at least continue forward as friends, then maybe he doesn’t have to focus so much on the unrequited love bit. Thinking about that part makes him feel like he’s been hit in the stomach so he tries not to dwell on it too much.

And yet...

_Shane doesn’t love him._

Even though Ryan knows that, and has known that all along it doesn’t stop it from hurting. It’s a subtle ache that is constantly lingering. Ryan has fallen in love with a man who will never love him back and he hates himself for it so goddamn much.

It's midweek when Daysha texts him. 

**Daysha** <11:36> Have you seen this yet? 

There’s a video attached, that’s so shaky and blurry and filled with drunken shouting that it takes Ryan three watches before he finally figures out why Daysha wants him to see it. They’re in the background, he and Shane pressed close together, swaying back and forth. Ryans head is tucked underneath Shanes' head. There’s something about Shane’s expression that makes Ryan stomach twist. It’s almost as if Shane is holding him so tenderly, as if Ryan is something precious he’s afraid to lose.

Ryan’s heart pounds uncomfortably in his chest. He doesn’t know what this means, doesn’t know if it means anything at all. He’s so tempted to send it to Shane and demand that he tell him what the hell is going on, but he doesn’t. He saves the video.

**Ryan** <11:44> Has anyone else seen it?

**Daysha** <11:49> No. Is everything okay?

**Ryan** <11:50> Yeah. Can you just keep this between us for now? 

**Daysha** <11:53> Sure. But I want details eventually, Bergara!!

Ryan rewatches the video four more times and then forces himself to put his phone down. He doesn’t sleep that night.

\- - -

It’s boxing day when Scott finally confronts Shane about it all – and really Shane isn’t surprised. He knows he must look like a mess. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and he seems to alternate between not sleeping at all or sleeping all the time. It’s early enough that the sun is only just starting to come up and the house is quiet. He’s making coffee, slowly stirring in milk and - a bit melodramatically, he has to admit - stewing in his own misery. So much so that he barely even notices Scott come up beside him.

“So uh, are you ever gunna tell me what the hell is going on?”

Shane pauses mid-stir to stare at him. He knows that he’s been a mess, but Shane’s been trying to hide it from his family the best that he can. He’s good at hiding behind a wall of indifference, and most of the time he gets away with it. But Scott has always known how to see through that, making him feel strangely transparent in a way that few people can.

“I wasn’t really planning on it.” He finally says, grabbing his cup and moving to sit down at the kitchen table. Scott hesitates for only the briefest of seconds, most likely debating whether or not he’s really going to have this conversation with Shane right now, then pours himself a cup of coffee and sits down next to him. Scott is three years older than Shane and has always made him feel so young in comparison.

 “You look like shit.”  
  
Shane only grunts non committedly. He knows he looks like crap, but he doesn’t really need the reminder.

“Is this about that goofy kid you film Unsolved with?” Scott finally asks, after taking a drink of his coffee. Shane looks down and fiddles with the handle on his cup before nodding.

“How did you know?” He asks.

Scott shrugs. “Just a hunch I guess.”

“He said he’s in love with me,” Shane says. He looks out the window, trying to keep his face as blank as possible. 

“Ah. And... You don’t feel the same?” Scott offers. Shane doesn’t respond, because God does he ever feel the same. He feels so in love that he practically hums with it; it’s honestly a miracle that he manages to keep everyone from seeing it. Scott only chews thoughtfully on his lip, obviously waiting for Shane to continue. 

“He just.. Ryan was drunk, and he only broke up with Helen a few months ago. He’s lonely and confused and he didn’t fucking mean it.” Shane doesn’t try to hide the bitterness, the hurt he’s been nursing inside for days.

“Shane.” Scott's expression is unreadable. “Did he actually say any of that? Or is that big ass head of yours just coming up with excuses?”

Shane can only blink at the question.

“Look. I’ve done and said a lot of stupid shit when I’m drunk. But confessing that I’m in love with someone when I’m not, has never been one of them. You’re so caught up in your own bullshit you’re not even considering that he might not be confused. He might just be into you.”

Shane runs his fingers through stringy hair. “It’s just… It doesn’t make sense.”

“Shane. Have you watched your videos? He looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass- even when you’re driving him nuts. The two of you have always had a thing. You know the entire internet thinks you're secretly boning, right?”

Shane shoots him a look.

“Sorry. But come on. You both just need to grow up and actually have a goddamn conversation about it, instead of avoiding each other like teenagers.” Scott gets up from the table, mug in hand. “Talk to him Shane.” A hand rests on Shane’s shoulder for a moment and then he’s alone again, staring at sky and falling snow.

 

\-- 

Ryan can remember the exact moment he realized he’s in love with Shane. It’s over something so small, so insignificant that he doubts Shane remembers it at all. He and Shane are sitting in the basement where they film the post-mortems and true crime episodes. It’s kind of creepy, but it’s quiet and works as a good place to be when you want to be alone. Ryan and Shane have taken to hiding away there when they’re trying to get work done, or when they’re just tired and want to goof off for a bit.

Ryan thinks now, somewhere in the back of his mind that he knows something between him and Shane shifted long before this moment. Maybe it was when he spent more time with Shane than he did Helen. Maybe it was when Shane and Sara broke up and that small spark he felt in his chest that was something akin to hope, when he heard. He can’t pinpoint it exactly. But this day is what brought it all together for Ryan.

It’s on one of the days when they’re actually working, that it happens. Shane is doing research for the new season of Ruining History and Ryan is researching new locations for the next season of Supernatural. 

Shane groans and stretches out his long limbs, and Ryan laughs at the pop of Shane’s joints. 

“Jesus Shane. It sounds like you have the body of an arthritic an old man.”

“Laugh it up while you can, Bergara. Old age is coming for you too.” Shane grumbles, but his lips twitch and Ryan smiles back.

“Fuck you, you’re only like 4 years older than me.”

“Five, actually.” Shane corrects smugly. He stands up, “I’m going to get some coffee, you want me to bring you some?”

“Sure.”

As Shane passes by he lets his hand drift through Ryan’s hair, and it’s a gesture so startlingly intimate and yet so simple that Ryan is left shaken. Shane pauses and meets Ryan’s gaze.  He opens his mouth like he means to say something, and Ryan's heart pounds at the look on his face.

Then the moment passes, and Shane laughs and looks away. He darts out the door with a muttered: “Be back in a minute.”

And Ryan _knows_. He knows with clarity, with such force that the shift he’s been feeling is that he wants Shane. He wants Shane to look at him like that every day, he wants Shane to run his long fingers through his hair. He just… Wants. And it’s Shane, and maybe it always has been Shane.

Ryan spends the next five minutes trying to breathe. When Shane returns, it’s less awkward than he thinks it’s going to be, but still sufficiently weird. Ryan powers through anyway because their friendship is worth more than his feelings.

That moment, that simple moment of a gesture of mistaken intimacy is all it took for Ryan to fall in love with Shane. 

Falling in love with Shane is effortless. For the most part, Ryan tries not to think about to hard about what that means.

\- - -

Over Christmas Shane’s parents let him be. Shane’s mom has an uncanny ability to sense when people did and didn’t need space and he’s grateful. Shane doesn’t know if he could handle everyone poking and prying and wanting to know what’s going on.

They’re all huddled in the family room watching a random show on tv, when her hand finds his in the dark and she pats it gently. He looks up at her and immediately knows that she knows _something_. He thinks that Scott probably told her about Ryan, which doesn’t bother Shane as much as he thought it would. Shane just silently leans his head on her shoulder, which is awkward because of how much taller he is, but it feels so nice he can’t bring himself to mind.  

It’s the most contact he’s had with anyone since the dancing with Ryan, and it’s soothing in a way Shane had forgotten it could be. It’s a relief to know that someone understands. He’s pretty sure that his dad and Scott are watching the two of them, because how often does your grown son cuddle up to his mom like he’s 6, but they don’t make any remarks about it. And if Shane’s eyes tear up for a minute, no one mentions it.

They all keep watching tv and Shane knows somehow, that it will work out. One way or another this misery will work itself out and his life will resume and Shane almost shudders with the relief of it.

\--

Shane is just boarding his flight home when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He shuffles to his seat before pulling it out and checking the message.

**Ryan** <10:46> I’m picking you up. We should talk.

**Shane** <10:50> Okay.

It’s a long flight, and Shane is so wound up from the thought of seeing Ryan again and so exhausted from no sleep that he feels like his whole body is buzzing. As promised Ryan is waiting for him, looking kind of perfect in a way that only Ryan can. His hair is poking out from underneath his hat, and Shane can tell that he’s been running his fingers through it. It makes him feel somewhat better to know that Ryan seems to be as nervous about this as he is. Shane watches as Ryan sees him and offers him a slightly pained and awkward smile. Shane's fingers clench tighter around the handle of his suitcase.

Shane picks his way towards Ryan through the crowd of people until finally, he’s standing in front of him. He thinks that it shouldn’t feel this painful to see Ryan here, looking awkward, and... And so tired but also still so incredibly beautiful.

“Hey.” Ryan sounds even more awkward than he looks, and for some inexplicable reason, it makes Shane mad. 

“Hey, Ry.” Shane’s voice is too quiet. He clears his throat. “I don’t have any extra luggage, we can head out.”

“Okay. Okay, let’s go.” Ryan leads the way out, still running his fingers anxiously through his hair.

\--

They drive to Shane’s apartment in mostly silence. He can tell that Ryan is tense, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel, but Shane doesn’t know what he can say to alleviate it or why he even wants too.

“So before we talk I have to show you this video that Daysha took.” Ryan blurts out. He holds his phone out to Shane. He can feel his heartbeat pound because Shane knows what is going to be on that video. This conversation that will be the result of it is going to go one of two ways; either Ryan feels the same or he doesn’t, and Shane honestly doesn’t know what he’s going to do if it ends up being the latter.

Shane tries to remain impassive, to not let his fingers shake as he takes the phone and unlocks it. Ryan already has the video up. Shane presses play and watches them. They’re dancing slowly in the background, swaying back and forth, and god they look in love. Or rather, Shane looks in love, and it’s strange to see how plainly it’s written on his face. He wonders if Ryan can see it, wonders if Ryan’s face looks at him the same way he looks at Ryans.

“I uh.. Yeah. Guess I should have mentioned that too.” Shane stumbles over the words and tries to ignore how the tips of his ears burn.

“Yeah, no shit dude. Look I don't... I feel like there’s been some major communication issues here. And maybe that’s my fault because I practically ran out of your apartment, but you haven't exactly been open with me either, so let’s just... Let’s just get it all out in the open. Okay?” Ryan keeps his vision straight ahead.

Shane nods, and then says, “Okay.”

“And there’s beer in the back if we need it.”

Shane can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” And Ryan is grinning a bit too, and Shane feels like maybe this might just be okay.


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been editing this forever, so I'm just posting it bc it's... probably not going to get any better than it is. Hope you enjoy :)

The rest of the drive to Shane’s apartment is more comfortable after they agree to finally talk about whatever it is that’s been going on between them. Ryan tells Shane about the ridiculous amount of food he ate, and Shane laughs when Ryan talks about gaining five pounds. Ryan asks Shane about Scott, and Shane tells him about how they had a movie marathon that lasted 3 days, and how his mom stuffed him so full of baking that Shane thought his stomach would explode.

By the time they have pulled up to Shane’s apartment things almost feel like they’re back to normal; the tension has decreased enough that Ryan’s grip on the steering wheel is no longer so tight that his knuckles are white. Ryan parks in his favorite spot, under the shade of a large tree. He brings in the six-pack of beer, and Shane brings his suitcase and backpack. It’s three stories to Shane’s apartment and by the time the elevator dings, Shane is already looking nervous again. Shane unlocks his door and immediately reaches for a beer and downs half in one gulp.

“Jesus Christ, Shane.” Ryan is mostly staring at Shane in bewildered amusement, but also he’s kind of worried because this isn’t ‘drinking for fun’ this is ‘drinking to prepare oneself for something scary’ and Ryan’s not sure how he’s supposed to deal with that.

Shane, as he is likely to do, ignores him completely. “So, the thing is this. There are things in my life I’ve just accepted I will never have. You know?” He pauses and takes another long drink, finishing the beer completely, reaching out for Ryan to wordlessly hand him another.

When Shane doesn’t immediately continue, Ryan grabs his own beer, never taking his eyes off of him. Shane is pacing the floor, and it would be kind of comical if it didn’t feel so strange, so out of character for Shane to be so worked up.

“Like-like I guess I just know that for whatever reason it’s not in the cards for me, because you know, I’m me. And I guess I’ve always thought you were one of those things. I’ve always been good at compartmentalizing things like that, and I was okay with putting you in a box that was labelled off limits. I really was until that night when you said.. You know.” Shane glances at Ryan, and then kind of winces.

“And now everything is different, and I guess it’s my fault because I should have just forgotten about it, like a normal fucking adult. But I don’t know how to go back to ignoring this like I did before. It’s not fair to you because it was just a stupid drunk confession, and it’s not fair to hold you accountable for that. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m trying hard. For us to go back to being friends again.”

It freezes Ryan in place, his heart thumping and banging uncomfortably fast in his chest. It feels like Ryan isn’t getting any air, like when Jake shoved him off the jungle gym when they were kids and he landed on his back and for two terrifying moments he could not get any air in. It’s like that except it’s not Jake looking down at him, panicked, it’s Shane. It feels like Shane might actually confess to something. This moment that’s stretching out before them like a road on an endless highway feels so static and precarious that Ryan can’t bring himself to move, afraid that it will disappear before him in a puff of smoke.

“Who…” Ryan inhales. “Who told you that I want to be friends?”

“Wait what? You don’t want to be friends anymore?”

Shane looks so crestfallen that Ryan stumbles over himself to correct it. “What? No you moron, what if I want to be something more than friends?”

“Something more…” The look on Shane’s face morphs into something less worried and more complex. He steps closer to Ryan, whose whole world is tilting on its axis, and Ryan knows they are so fucking close to creating something new between them. This isn’t a natural extension of their friendship, this is going off the path completely, and it’s terrifying. Shane is now so close to him that Ryan has to actually look up at Shane now, and it would be irritating if it wasn’t so mind-blowingly hot. “What do you want Ryan?”

“Shane,” Ryan’s voice breaks at the end of his name, and he hates it. He hates how nervous he is to say it, to admit to it out loud. “I want to be with you, you idiot."

\--

Shane inhales sharply, Ryan’s words reverberating in his head. Then he’s moving even closer to Ryan, and his hands are shaking but he stills them by pressing them against Ryan’s sides. Ryan is warm, and steady and standing in front of him looking at Shane like… Like he actually might just want this. Ryan is the opposite of Shane in so many ways, but Shane doesn’t give himself time to think about it, no time for him to be nervous about it because he’s already leaning down and pressing chapped lips against Ryans.

For a gut wrenching moment Ryan doesn’t respond. Shane thinks  _ Well Fuck _ to himself and actually considers praying to whatever gods/demons that might - but probably, most definitely don’t- exist out there to crack open the ground and fucking drag him into hell because  _ what in the actual fuck has he done _ . He can’t believe he has misread this whole situation so badly, but before he can pull away and slither into his own personal pit of despair, Ryan makes a startled noise and is kissing him back.

Shane can’t think. In fact, he’s pretty sure that this has broken his brain completely in two. It’s like everything in the world has melted away except for Ryan. Ryan’s hands are pressed against him, and Ryan’s lips are moving against his own, and fuck if this isn’t everything he has ever wanted. He’s amazed at how right it feels, like it’s the last piece of a puzzle being put into place, and Shane has waited so fucking long for this. And it’s imperfect, and awkward because Shane is too tall, and they haven’t quite figured out how to make their faces fit together properly but it’s still somehow so insanely perfect that Shane can hardly breathe.

It’s Shane that pulls away first, reluctantly with a whispered “Well fuck.”

Ryan laughs, loudly. He looks so fucking beautiful; his lips are kind of red and puffy from kissing, his face bright, despite the hint of dark circles under his eyes. Shane can’t help the grin that forms on his face; it’s the happiest he’s felt in so long, whatever weight that was pressing down on him before is long gone. It’s been replaced with something lighter, something new and malleable. It’s so different from what he had with Sara, or anyone else he’s dated, which he supposes is why it feels so new. Everything with Sara was so easy. They had fit well together, but Shane had always felt like there had been something missing. And it was Ryan. He thinks it was always Ryan, but he had just been too stupid to realize it. He’d thought their chemistry was just the workings of a great friendship, but it was always so much more than that. He wishes so badly he’d realized it sooner.

“We’re both so goddamn stupid Shane. Fuck.” Ryan’s head is pressed against Shane’s chest, Shanes arms are wrapped around Ryan’s waist. He thinks it’s probably corny that they’re just standing there holding each other, but fuck it. He can’t really bring himself to care.

“Yeah. We are.” Shane murmurs.

“You were never out of my league, you know.” Ryan says this into the crook of Shane’s neck, and Shane is so grateful for it, because he doesn’t know if he can bring himself to look at Ryan while he’s having this conversation. “Why the fuck would you ever think that?”

“I don’t know Ry. Cause you’re you, you know? And you never gave me any hints that you weren’t straight, so I assumed all you wanted to be was, you know.. Bro’s.” Ryan laughs at this, and smacks Shane’s arm. Shane thinks Ryan probably knows that he’s deflecting just a bit, but Shane doesn’t really want to ruin the moment, and anyway Ryan is here and wants him back. That’s all that really matters. He can over analyze the rest of it later.

“Asshole. I’m not a bro.”

“Well, maybe not so much now. But you used to be. Ryan you used to build a wall of pillows between us when we had to share a bed.” Shane can feel Ryan shift against him, a sign that maybe this conversation has hit a sore spot.

“Fine, so maybe I was a bit of a bro.” Ryan admits. “Call it my own personal brand of denial.”

“I’ve been there buddy. It’s cool.” Shane grins, “Either way, I was wrong.”

Ryan nods against Shane’s chest, and for a moment they’re still.

“I thought I ruined our friendship,” Ryan confesses. It makes Shane frown and pull away to look closely at Ryan.

“By having a thing for me? Ryan you’ve known I’m bi for years. Why would that even be an issue?”

“I don’t know. Friendships have been ruined over less. Having a crush on your friend can seriously fuck shit up dude, even if said friend is a bisexual sasquatch.” Ryan smiles up at him. Shane valiantly resists the urge to kiss the goofy grin straight off Ryan’s face. “Plus you know, there’s Unsolved to think about too.”

“Oh my god Ryan, think of the fans. They’ll flip shit when they find out about this.” Shane collapses on the couch dramatically and Ryan follows. He sits close enough that their thighs touch, and Shane is almost embarrassed over how warm and giddy it makes him feel.

“Don’t remind me dude. There will be  _ so _ much fan fiction about us.” Ryan groans and puts his head in his hands.

“Honestly Ry, there already is. Have you ever read some of it? It’s kinky.” Shane winks and then waggles his eyebrows at Ryan, who turns pink and laughs. “I think they probably knew before we did.”

Shane takes Ryan’s hand and laces their fingers together, like how he had always wanted to do but never could before. If it flusters Ryan, he doesn’t show it. “You’re giving them way too much credit, big guy. And also I can’t believe you read fan fiction about us.”

“Whatever. It was only once.” Shane’s ears are still a little red, so he squeezes Ryan’s hand, who laughs. “I didn’t know though… That you were not straight. I would’ve said something sooner if I had actually thought I had a chance.”

Ryan looks down, and bites his lip. “Yeah well it's sort of a more recent development. I didn’t want to be the idiot that ruins everything by getting some stupid crush, or whatever. I kind of thought i was the one who didn’t have a chance. But like you said earlier, we’re both idiots.”

“We’re two ghoul boys in love, baby!” Shane laughs and almost misses the look Ryan gives him.

“So, you love me huh?” Ryan asks, almost serious, and not quite looking at Shane. And the thing is Shane doesn’t even have to think about it. It’s become one of the many facts about Shane: Shane is 34, Shane works at BuzzFeed, Shane doesn’t believe in ghosts, Shane could not care less about sports, and Shane loves Ryan. It has stitched itself into every cell in his body, has rewritten his entire life to entwined with Ryan’s.

“Yeah Ry, I think I kind of do.” The grin that Ryan gives him in response is so wide and bright and all-encompassing that Shane doesn’t even bother to resist the urge to kiss Ryan again. He leans down to press his lips softly against Ryan’s and doesn’t stop for a long time.

\--

They spend the rest of the day in a haze of lazy makeouts on Shane’s couch, punctuated by Netflix and greasy take out food that Shane orders from an app on his phone. Ryan insists on making Shane watch The Haunting of Hill House. He can tell that Shane doesn’t love it as much as he does, but he thinks it works out okay for both of them because every time Ryan jumps, Shane pulls him closer and then mercilessly teases him about it. (“Come on dude, even you have to admit that was a pretty good jump scare!” “Not good enough for you to scream that loud. I still can’t hear out of my left ear Ryan.”) It feels so natural to be with Shane like this; it’s not that it’s different from how it was before, just a sort of… Natural extension of their relationship. Ryan’s pretty sure he feels more at home here, on Shanes couch than he has in months, and he’s reluctant to have to leave and pull himself away from it all.

When they finally finish binging The Haunting of Hill House, which even Shane has to admit was pretty good; it’s almost one in the morning. They’re lying on Shane’s couch; Ryan sprawled on top of Shane, whose feet hang over the arms of the couch in an almost comical manner. In fact, Ryan’s pretty sure that he’s made all of four comments about it. But he can also hear Shane’s heartbeat, a steady rhythm beating in his ears and feels bonelessly content.

“I guess I should probably head home.” Ryan mumbles as they watch a trailer for another creepy Netflix Original.

“Yeah. Or uh, I mean you could stay. If you want.” Shane’s voice sounds deeper when Ryan’s head is pressed against his chest, and he swears he can hear Shane’s heartbeat just a little faster when he asks.

“Yeah. Yeah that sounds good.” Ryan lifts his head up and presses a kiss on Shane’s lips. “I still can’t believe I get to do that now.” He admits softly.

“Well, believe it baby.” Shane’s grin is goofy, but it doesn’t stop Ryan’s stomach from twisting pleasantly. It’s not the first time Shane’s called him ‘baby’ but there’s something different about it now. It’s softer, not a joke or a bit, but an endearment. It makes Ryan grin back at Shane if only to cover up just how many ridiculous emotions he’s feeling.

They get ready for bed separately. Shane lets Ryan use the bathroom first, and Ryan changes into a spare pair of sweatpants he keeps at Shane’s, just in case. He wonders if that’s a normal thing that other friends do, but he doesn’t really care about the answer. A moment later, when he’s lying in Shane’s bed while Shane changes,  Ryan feels strange and a little out of place. He’s never slept in Shane’s room before, always opting to sleep on the couch.

It’s kind of awkward when Shane returns from the bathroom, standing in the doorframe. Sleeping in a bed together, as something more than friends is new territory for Ryan, and it’s on that he’s not sure how to handle. He wonders if Shane feels the same nervous apprehension that he does, wonders if he’s thinking maybe this is a mistake, but Shane gives him a smile and it works to quiet whatever doubts are plaguing Ryan.

And then Shane makes a lewd joke about them sleeping together, and they both dissolve into laughter, and Ryan forgets why he ever felt nervous to begin with.

\--

When Ryan wakes, he takes a moment to remember where he is. Shane’s room is full of a lot of random stuff, but it’s far cleaner than Ryans. There’s no pile of dirty clothes in the corner, and the bed is ridiculously huge compared to his own - though he supposes it has to be to fit Shane’s ridiculously large limbs. Ryan grins for a moment and looks over to see that Shane is still asleep. They’re both facing each other, Shane’s arm thrown around Ryan; a solid warmth pressing against his side. For a moment Ryan doesn’t move, just watches Shane, and the slight rise and fall of his chest. The sunlight is hitting his face so gently, and Shane looks so calm and serene and kinda fucking beautiful, that Ryan’s chest aches.

The thing about Shane, Ryan thinks as he watches Shane carefully, is that he’s not attractive in a conventional kind of way. He’s tall, and lanky, and kind of awkward, and brimming with what can only be described as sarcastic apathy 95% of the time. The point, Ryan thinks he’s trying to make, is that if Ryan had a type of guy, he doesn’t think Shane would be it. He’s not Chris Pine, in a very blatant and obvious way.

And yet Ryan is drawn to him over and over again, like a moth to flame. Or, more like a moth to a lightbulb, because that feels less dramatic and more accurate somehow. Ryan feels like he’s just constantly beating himself stupid trying to get through to Shane sometimes. How Shane looks when he smiles lights something up in Ryan, something that Ryan has never felt before. Shane’s cool indifference, which can sometimes be infuriating, is still a soothing balm to Ryan’s own intensity, his own anxiety that always seems to be pulsing somewhere just beneath the surface. He thinks that this shines through the most when their filming Supernatural, but even when they’re not filming, Shane is always the calm balancing out Ryan’s franticness. Shane, for all his lanky weirdness, is compelling and beautiful and somehow, impossibly, fits perfectly with Ryan.

Ryan lets his hand drift lazily through Shane’s hair, feeling how soft it is between his fingers. He thinks Shane is probably awake by now, but his eyes are still closed so Ryan keeps going. He’s working himself up to something he had planned to do from the moment he woke up here, in Shane’s bed. It’s strange how brave he’s feeling this morning, in a way he thinks Shane would be proud of, if he knew. Ryan marvels at how soft Shane looks when he’s sleeping, bathed in early morning sunlight.  Ryan presses a kiss to Shane’s throat, and he hears a low almost inaudible groan in response, which makes him smirk against Shane’s skin.

“Is this okay?”

Shane’s voice is rough. “Yeah Ry, it’s good.”

Ryan runs his fingers through Shane’s hair once more before he lets his hand drift down Shane’s chest, over the soft worn material of his BuzzFeed t-shirt, until he reaches the hem of Shane’s sweatpants. His own sweats are feeling snug, and Ryan has to resolutely resist the urge to grind himself against the side of Shane’s thigh. He hesitates for only a handful of seconds, but it’s enough that Shane notices.

“You don’t have too, Ryan.” Shane’s voice is quiet.

Shane’s words echo in his head, about him not feeling like he’s good enough for Ryan, like he doesn’t deserve everything the world has to offer, and it makes something inside of Ryan break for Shane. The thought of Shane not feeling good enough for anything is the most ridiculous thing - Shane deserves the world. And anyway Ryan wants this. In fact, Ryan is damn sure he’s never wanted anything more than he’s wanted Shane.

So Ryan swallows against the onslaught of nerves working their way through him, murmurers a “Shut up Shane.” And dips his fingers underneath Shane’s waistband, feeling the rough and then he finally wraps his fingers around Shane’s dick, and Shane lets out what can only be described as a whine, and Ryan feels on top of the fucking world. His dick twitches and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t really know how to do this to another man, it doesn’t matter that he’s more painfully hard than he can ever remember being in his entire life, all he can focus on is Shane, with his head thrown back, Shane with fingers clenched tightly by his side, like he’s scared to touch Ryan because he might disappear.

Like Ryan is something precious Shane is afraid to lose.

\--

Shane is having a bit of a moment.

And it’s not just because Ryan’s hand is wrapped around him, which is a whole other thing he will need a moment to sort through. Because he never, in a million years, dreamed that this would be happening. Waking up to Ryan in his bed, Ryan with his fingers running through his messy hair, Ryan with his hands dipping into the waist of Shane’s sweatpants. And Ryan is so eager and nervous and fucking  _ brave _ and new. Shane is almost afraid to touch him, afraid that if he un-clenches his fists from his side to bring Ryan’s head down so he can kiss him like he so desperately wants to, that Ryan will disappear like it’s all just a fucked up dream that his subconscious is torturing him with. Shane doesn’t think he can quite handle that, so he keeps his hands by his side and lets Ryan jerk him off.

And it’s good. He can feel Ryan beside him, pressing the length of his body against Shane, pressing kisses into Shane’s neck, and fuck it’s so good. It doesn’t take him long to get close, partly because it’s Ryan, and also because it’s been awhile since he’s had any sexual contact with anyone other than himself. It’s when he sees that Ryan has pushed his own sweatpants down over his hips and has his other hand slowly stroking himself in time with Shane.

Shane’s hips stutter at the sight of Ryan stroking himself, it's very quickly too much for Shane. “Shit Ry, I’m gunna-” He comes suddenly, relentlessly, his orgasm ripping through him and making him curse under his breath. It spills over Ryan’s hand and onto his stomach, and fuck if it isn’t one of the best orgasms he’s ever had.

It’s a moment before he comes back to his senses, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he came, but its been months and its Ryan (Shane thinks this like it’s some kind of justifiable excuse, even though he knows it’s really not). And judging by the way that Ryan is looking at him, he doesn’t think he minds all that much. Ryan’s eyes are half lidded, but there’s a smirk on his face that Shane knows he should find irritating but instead finds completely endearing.

“How you doing there big guy?” Ryan asks.

“My brain is officially melted.” Shane can’t help but grin, and Ryan grins back.

“That good huh?”

Shane props himself up and kisses Ryan, fiercely, effectively silencing anymore quirks. His hand slips over top of Ryan’s who drops his hand away and Shane marvels at the feeling of Ryan in his hand. It being Ryan shouldn’t make this experience so new and thrilling, but it does. It does, and he can’t take his eyes off of Ryan whose head is thrown back onto the pillow. His hair is sticking up at all angles, and his face is flushed. Shane marvels for a moment, at Ryan, at the fact that he’s even here in this moment, before giving Ryan a quick grin, and then climbs over top of Ryan so each of his legs are on either side of Ryan’s hips. It’s not a position Shane finds himself in often, and he refuses to let his mind make him feel self conscious about how long his legs are.

Shane lowers himself down and takes Ryan in his mouth, and Ryan lets out a breathy groan, so loud that he slaps his hand over his mouth.

“Now who’s good?” 

“Shane I swear to god.” Shane lets out a breathy laugh, before taking Ryan completely into his mouth. It doesn’t take long for Ryan’s breaths to start to quicken, and his hands are clenching handfuls of Shane’s hair, and Shane loves being the one to make Ryan fall apart. 

And Ryan does fall apart, and it’s beautiful. He gives Shane only a moments notice with a gasped “Shane I’m-” and then he’s coming wordlessly into Shane’s mouth. Shane takes it all, and when he sees that Ryan is staring down at him, panting, Shane smirks and gives him a wink. Ryan swears and turns pink, and Shane laughs.

“Well shit.” Shane doesn’t really give Ryan a chance to answer, pressing a lazy kiss into Ryan's lips.  


“I can’t believe we waited this long to do this.” Ryan gestures between them.

“Yeah, well. Idiots remember?” 

\--

It’s a week later when Ryan finally gets the text he’d been expecting for a while from Daysha.

Daysha <5:54pm> Ryan?? I still need details?? 

Ryan doesn’t respond right away. Eventually he sends Daysha a picture of him and Shane taking a ridiculously self indulgent selfie of Ryan kissing Shane on the cheek. Ryan can’t help but smile as he wordlessly passes his phone over to Shane, who glances down and snorts.

“I give it less than 24 hours before literally everyone at Buzzfeed knows.” 

Ryans phone buzzes, and he takes it back from Shane.

Daysha <6:38pm> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Daysha <6:45pm> Also you only have two minutes to respond to this, or else i’m taking ur silence as permission for me to tell EVERYONE about this.

“You wanna take a bet on that big guy? I give it less than 12.”  

“You’re on, baby.” Shane seals it with a kiss, that makes sure that Ryan doesn’t look at his phone for a couple hours.

Ryan is right, in the end. It only takes three hours for the news to reach pretty much everyone at Buzzfeed. Ryan is a gracious winner, and they both end up finding a compromise that works well for both of them. The next day at work Shane is sporting a hickey peeking out from under his collar, and the whole office cheers when one of their coworkers gleefully points it out.

Neither of them mind a whole lot.

  
  



End file.
